


Hold Me Like a Breath

by Processpending



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Asthma, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Team Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:47:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23353423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Processpending/pseuds/Processpending
Summary: In the laundry list of oddities that is Malcolm Bright, he found his penchant for sudden inability to breathe as unmentionable.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 87





	Hold Me Like a Breath

Dani knows Russell is going to run before he bolts, which means she had a good tail on him when he takes off, his stride lengthening between one step and the next. What she doesn’t expect is Malcolm keeping pace, her surprised glance answered with a look that says, _ex-FBI._ She waves him back knowing there was no hope of deterring him from following, but they could at least acknowledge _some_ protocol. 

Russell dodges down one of the side-alleys and Dani curses as she slams her shoulder into the wall at the mouth of it, calling it in with one hand, she uses the other to secure Malcolm to the wall next to her as he tries to lean around her to get a look. _Ex_ -FBI was right.

With confirmation that JT and Gil would go around and try to head Russell off, Dani risks a peek around the corner, their suspect had slowed, glancing back to see if he’d lost them was all the opening Dani needed.

“NYPD. Stop!” Dani commands as she whips around the corner, missing Malcolm’s broad grin at her detective-tone. Freed now from her restraining hand, he follows her around the corner, keeping a pace back as they resume pursuit once more, Dani’s call acting as a trigger, spurring their suspect into all but sprinting.

The alley is a hazard; overflowing dumpsters and slimy walls that have oozed into oily puddles mirroring their surroundings. Dani’s relieved to see the alley only opens to the right, now she just hopes JT and Gil are in place.

“Coming your way-” She starts when one of the many doors lining the alley bursts open, a white cloud of steam billowing out, blinding them.

Dani drops to a knee, instinct taking over as she strains to hear footsteps, to see if anyone is approaching through the mist. The cloud doesn’t last long in the cold winter air and she’s slowly able to make out the form of Russell slowly making his way, waving his arms in front of him to serve as a warning before he walks into anything. 

Dani shoves to her feet, hoping to use the element of surprise to her advantage but the cloud is gone too fast and Russell is back to running, pushing off the far wall as he ricochets around the corner. Dani skids to a stop at the intersection, glancing around she’s met with another long alley, several openings leading off of it and she knows they’ve lost him and she shouldn’t follow, not without proper backup to cover her.

She’s raising her radio to call it in when JT’s huffed words come over, they’ve picked up the pursuit, he’s driving Russell towards Gil who’s ready and waiting. Good. Dani flashes a smile over her shoulder, expecting Bright to be there, surprised he didn’t try to run past her this time, only to grin at air. 

Malcolm’s not behind her.

Malcolm’s not in the alley.

Dani panics, wondering if he somehow made it past them both in that cloud and is now _ahead_ of the suspect, but JT would’ve said something, right? Or Malcolm would’ve realized it? Unless he turned down the wrong one...but he was smarter than that, he wouldn’t....Dani stops there, Bright _would_ in fact do something that stupid. 

“Anyone got eyes on Bright?” She hates having to ask, feeling like the babysitter reporting to the parents that little Johnny was _just_ _right here_. She turns, heading back the way they came, hoping that he did the sensible thing for once and headed back to their car to wait.

“We’ve got Russell. What do you mean have we seen Bright?” Dani can hear the sigh in Gil’s tone even though she knows it’s long past. 

It’s the sound that draws her attention, that makes her eyes focus, decipher this bit of gray and black from the rest of the alley, the sound of ragged breathing, of scrabbling fingers and harsh pants...of Malcolm Bright crumpled against the dirty alley wall, eyes blown wide, fingers scrabbling against tie and buttons and too much fabric, blunt nails leaving red slashes in their wake.

Dani thinks he's having another hallucination, that he's been triggered, fighting demons only he can see. It’s when his eyes find hers, lucid and focusing on what she's saying does she realize he's with her. 

"What's wrong? Where are you hurt?" She didn't see him get hit but that doesn't mean he didn't. "I need a bus. We have an officer down." Dani drops the radio as scrabbling turns to clawing, bloody streaks as skin is raked up. "Look at me, Bright." She fights his hands away from his neck, his fingers slick with blood in hers. The radio chatters, requesting location and status but she can't pick it up, already struggling to keep her grip on him. Malcolm's eyes are frantic, his chest heaving though it seems he's barely getting any air. 

Gil's voice comes over, giving the last location Dani radioed and judging by the sound of him Dani isn't surprised when he appears at the mouth of the alley moments later, eyes searching. It's hard to miss them and Gil wastes no time as he runs down the alley towards them.

Dani briefly wonders how this must look, her practically sitting in Bright's lap, his arms jerking hers in a demented mirror-game as she struggles to hold him.

Gil crouches beside her, Malcolm's wild eyes latching onto the detective, "Guh-" He pants the sound, trying to untangle his hand from Dani's so he can reach Gil, but she doesn't understand and tightens her hold on him. 

"Tarmel. Get the med kit from the car." Gil barks the order down the line, not bothering to wait for a response, his mouth a tight line. He's up, moving around them, pushing Malcolm towards Dani, nearly toppling her over as he drops to the ground behind him, pulling Malcolm back against his chest.

"Hey kid, we've got you but I need for you to breathe. Match my breaths, ok?" Malcolm's nod is jerky, his struggling getting weaker and weaker until it's only Dani's grip keeping his hands aloft. Gil pulls the profiler's slight frame against his, exaggerating his breathing so Malcolm feels it against his back, his head tipping back to rest on Gil's shoulder as he tries to mimic him.

"That's good." Only Dani sees the look Gil sends over his shoulder, irritation briefly replacing fear. "If Dani lets your hands go, will you let her open your collar?" Dazed blue eyes struggle to focus on her. "Kid, I need you to stay with me." It's the worry in Gil's voice that sends the fear she hadn't realized abated at his arrival spiking back through her. 

She doesn't wait for confirmation, dropping his hands she starts fumbling with his tie, then that damnably small button on his collar. She swears he leans into her touch, but she shoves the thought away.

"Dammit Bright." She didn't even hear JT approach, the large white case startling as it fills her peripheral. 

"Get the Epi-pen. Ambulance?" Malcolm is looking more grey, his chest heaving though he only seems to be getting sips of air. She jerks away when she feels something cold slip inside the cuff of her jacket, her mind supplying all manner of vermin that call this alley home, but one look finds Malcolm's hand stretched toward her, knocked aside in her surprise. 

"Nearly here." The tightness in JT’s normally gruff voice scares Dani. 

"Jam it in the meat of his thigh." Gil commands as JT digs out the pen even though they've all had the mandated class Gil can't stop himself, the smallest delay seeming like hours. JT looks skeptical at Gil's words, there is no meat on Bright and he's sure if the kid were of his mind he'd appreciate the humor. 

Dani squeezes Malcolm's hand as JT rams the pen into his slim thigh, fear ratcheting up when the painful pinch doesn't elicit any response from him. Dani knows it's only a matter of heartbeats before he's sucking in gulps of air, lurching forward out of Gil's grasp and into her, JT's steadying hand on his shoulder keeping them from falling backward.

The paramedics are there, pulling Malcolm from them, barking orders and numbers, questions that Dani doesn't hear, that Gil's answering before they're even finished asking, experience having seared the procedure into his mind. 

Through it all, Dani sits on the cold ground of the alley, her eyes never leaving the dulled blue of Malcolm's as he watches her like she's the only thing keeping him tethered.

o~O~o

In a fit of sanity, Malcolm had changed his emergency contact to Gil, something he had failed to tell the lieutenant. By the time the team arrived, it seems Malcolm had gained back enough lung capacity he was trying to sign himself out-against medical advice of course. This only made the doctors more concerned, thinking his mental acuity was more affected than they originally believed. 

“So help me Bright, if you go AMA you're off the team.” Not even his spooked-puppy dog look had gotten Gil to waver.

Which is how Malcolm finds himself with his own room instead of in an ER bay, peering over the mask that Gil is keeping a closer eye on, making sure it continued to stay right where it was supposed to, which also happened to be right where Malcolm didn't want it.

"Felled by a cloud of steam." Each word was accompanied by a burst of fog on the mask, the words taking what little of himself he'd collected before they'd arrived. Gil could see it in his eyes, how much he hated looking weak in front of the team, the ones who already thought him reckless could now add frail to their list of why he shouldn't be called in. "I can send them home." Gil offered, Malcolm's surprise clear around the mask.

"Here?" Another word, another cloud of steam, another bit of himself used up.

"Here?" Gil frowns, but it's not for Malcolm. He'd been with them long enough, he'd earned JT's grudging respect and he knew Dani cared for him, but Gil knew the kid was awkward, he never recognized when someone cared for him. Never trusted it.

"Yeah, they're here. They're worried about you, but if you're not comfortable with them seeing you I can send 'em home. " _I doubt they'll go._ Gil finishes silently, he doesn't dare voice it, knowing Malcolm would take it as guilt.

"Ok." The condensation flaring on the mask the only indication he's agreed, the acceptance too soft. 

Gil isn't gone long, the walk down to the waiting room and a beckoning hand don't take more than a handful of minutes, but Malcolm had spent every one of those moments trying to make himself presentable. When Gil returns Malcolm has forced himself to sit up straighter, only his hand with the IV resting above the bedclothes.

He gives his best reassuring smile but it’s hindered by the mask, his hand reaching up to remove it when Gil's warning rings through the room, " _Kid_." Dani smiles and JT rolls his eyes and the tension that had been building disappears. 

"Forget to mention something?" Dani's tone is teasing, but the question isn't as she moves closer to Malcolm's bed, perching on the end of it. 

"Not...important." This is telling in itself, the usually non-stop rambling is absent and Dani would be worried if Malcolm wasn't exactly where he needed to be. But no one there misses how big those two words are, in the laundry list of oddities that is Malcolm Bright, he found his penchant for sudden inability to breathe as unmentionable.

"Asthma." Gil levels another look at Malcolm who's hand drops from where it'd been reaching to pull down the mask...again. Dani looked skeptical, he'd been keeping pace with her just fine and, well now that she thinks about it she's never really seen him run. Wouldn’t be able to picture him running in his three piece suit if she hadn’t seen it for herself.

“Cold.” The fog hasn’t fully faded from the mask before JT’s snagged the spare blanket from the corner and is back at the bed, tossing one end to Dani who’s risen from her spot but Malcolm’s shaking his head and doing his best to frown. 

“Cold,” He starts again, clearly frustrated as his hand twitches up before falling back to the bed as he aborts trying to remove the mask, tired blue eyes blinking slowly.

“The cold weather makes it worse.” Gil finishes, Malcolm’s relief evident as his head falls back against the bed. “I should’ve had you get me a new inhaler when you got back in town. I’m sorry kid, I didn’t even think about it.” 

Any relief Malcolm had disappears at those words, his head snapping forward, “No, not a–” Malcolm catches himself only because JT moves, refolding the blanket now that it’s obvious Malcolm isn’t cold.

“You needing to breathe isn’t a burden, city boy.” Gil cups the back of Malcolm’s neck, squeezing gently even as his cheeks pink, giving a sheepish glance to JT and Dani.

o~O~o

Dani insists on getting an inhaler to keep in her car before Malcolm’s released from the hospital, he doesn’t find out until much later that she moves it to her person when it gets cold out.

No matter how many times Malcolm insists it’s not Gil’s fault, the lieutenant doesn’t relent until Malcolm gives him an inhaler, unsurprisingly kept tucked in Gil’s glove-box.

It’s a little unexpected to find an Epi-pen in JT’s glove-box as he’s rummaging for a pen, tucked back behind a handful of napkins but it’s there all the same. 

Malcolm views the apparatuses like tokens, JT and Dani keeping them around as a means of warding off future incidents and to appease Gil who looked years older that day in the alley. Seasons pass, the incident fading enough that Malcolm no longer feels the heavy gaze of anticipation when the weather turns cold until they’re called to a farm. 

Malcolm’s profile leads them to the farm where Springer is holding hostages, the frozen ground crunching under their steps as they advance on the structure. Malcolm knows he should alert someone, but the team’s too far ahead and calling out might alert Springer to their presence, a deadly risk Malcolm isn’t willing to take. 

Malcolm’s last glimpse is of JT flanking Dani before he’s slipping into the smaller shed, _knowing_ that’s where Springer would stash the people, keep them close to where he’ll kill them, keep them in the slaughtering shed.

Malcolm regrets being right when Springer steps from the dark, a heavy blow sending him sprawling to the floor, all the air knocked from his lungs, stealing any warning call. Malcolm scrabbles backward, feet kicking up dust, handfuls of straw doing little to aid him in his search for a weapon.

“How’d you find me?” Springer looms over Malcolm, the butcher’s apron doing little to ease the anxiety constricting Malcolm’s chest, his breaths little more than a whine.

“Yuh...your...vic...tuh–” Malcolm knows he needs to keep Springer talking, buy time for his team to realize he’s not with them, to search the building, to keep himself alive.

“NYPD! Hands where I can see them.” Gil’s command startles Springer, distracting him enough that Dani steps from the dark, gun raised and aimed on Springer. His team is there, the hostages are safe and– 

“Dammit Bright!” JT’s words are loud in his ear, a bruising grip on his forearms wrenches him into sitting, his head lolling. Gil nods to Dani around Springer’s shoulder and in a whirl of hay and dust Dani is sprinting from the shack, the dull thuds of her footsteps marking her progress. 

“Talk to me.” Gil orders, wrangling cuffs onto Springer as uniforms hold him in place, eyeing the formidable man. 

“Bright, stay with me, of all the times for you to shut up now isn’t one of them.” JT doesn’t like the sluggish way Malcolm fights his hold, doesn’t tease about caring as JT hauls his scrawny frame into his lap, pressing the profiler’s back against his chest as he fights to keep him sitting up.

“ETA on that bus?” JT doesn’t pay attention to the response, too focused on the wheezing breaths that rattle Malcolm, his mind supplying a punctured lung from a hit or from his skinny ass connecting with the floor. 

Gil tenses and JT’s head snaps up, knowing he’s in the worst position possible as the sounds of someone rapidly approaching echoes toward them. Gil draws his weapon as he steps into the shadows of the shelves. 

“How is he?” Dani’s question precedes her, Gil visibly relaxing as he holsters his weapon and moves toward Malcolm and JT, nearly getting bowled over by Dani as she crashes to her knees before them. “Lucky your car was unlocked.” Gil’s muttered curse pangs Dani, it’s not how she meant the words, just another instance of something none of them thought about until it was almost too late.

Dani rips the cover off the mouthpiece, having spent most of the run back shaking the inhaler, she raises it to Malcolm’s mouth, his hands comes up to take it from her but his fingers have gone dumb. “Let me, Malcolm.” She doesn’t know if it’s her soft tone or the use of his first name but his hand drops back to his lap and he dutifully opens his mouth, letting her slot the plastic between his lips.

The medication fills Malcolm’s mouth with the taste of metal and he scrunches his face but dutifully holds it for as long as he can, Dani giving Gil a concerned look that it wasn’t long enough but Gil only has eyes for his kid.

It opens his lungs enough, sips of air turning into swallows, awareness eating away the darkness that’s been encroaching. He’s puzzled to find Dani and Gil before him when he distinctly knows he’s being help by someone, feel their chests expand with each breath against his back. 

“Where’s…T?” It comes out a slur, Malcolm tries to frown but everything is harder and it turns into a long blink instead, Dani’s cold fingers grabbing his chin pull him back, “Look at me.” Blue eyes flutter, his breaths becoming shallow again and Dani fears they’re too far out, that he’ll slip quietly away instead of with a fight, here in an all but forgotten shanty. 

“Dani.” Gil’s pulling her up and Dani starts to fight but two paramedics crowd the space. Gil keeps a hand on Dani’s shoulder, guiding as much as reassuring, until they’re out in the crisp, open air. The minutes seem to stretch into hours before Malcolm’s finally wheeled out on a stretcher, looking far more lucid than when they left them, JT keep pace beside the gurney.

“It’s not expired.” The paramedics exchange a concerned look at Malcolm’s pronouncement but he only has eyes for JT who understands all too well.

“Yeah, well, you used what could have been your last breaths to explain your profile _to_ the killer.” JT counters, exasperation not quite masking the fondness of his tone.

Maybe they were tokens, just not the superstitious kind.


End file.
